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The crossing from Ras-Laffan to Jebel Ali (Dubai) is done in a few hours and we arrive in sight of the harbour by 1500.<br/><br/>

Dubai and the U.A.E has for me similar connotations to the promised land. Dubai will provide us with all that we desperately need: the spare parts to repair the Air Conditioning on board, the supplies of fresh foods, including fruits and vegetables, fresh water, vast quantities of alcohol and juices. All the shops in the world, containing all the luxuries imaginable. More than that, it is the first city which I am really truly excited to visit. Port Sudan and Ras Laffan were mere appetizers before Dubai.<br/><br/>

Dubai, Friday the 16th of September

Degrubenc
2005-12-09 16:26:21

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leaders declared that as of now, all gambling on land and territorial waters was outlawed. The entrepreneurs had gambled and lost, the main purpose of the hotel was lost. The entrepreneurs sold the half-built shell (bought, apparently, by the same religious leaders who outlawed gambling, but those are only mean rumours, of course) and turned the casino into an exceedingly exclusive and restrictive hotel, where it is rumoured that gambling does indeed go on. It is just that no one talks much about it. I later check the website of the hotel: a single room for one night occupancy would set me back a mere 6,000USD, a small suite 37,000 USD. I ask my parents if they would mind terribly, for one night only, they answered swiftly that, indeed, they would mind terribly.

As we get closer to the city centre, I am amazed at the construction sites popping up everywhere. Entire cities are being built all at once, the countryside is filled with gigantic projects, making the size of the city hard to evaluate. The desert is turning into a new Manhattan. I am taken to a large shopping mall, the largest in the world, I am told and let loose for three hours. During those three hours, I have barely managed to cover a 10th of the mall. Every brand on the planet seems to be represented there. I am told by the pretty Russian information assistant lady that the only two things I cannot buy in the shopping mall are my father and mother, everything else is on offer. I am ready to believe her. I spend some time in a space-age cyber café with laser beams and artificial smoke pouring out everywhere.

Later in the evening, the driver takes me to a trendy bar in one of the smart hotels of the city (three is no lack of smart hotels about) where I am to meet the General Manager of the shipping agency. He is a kind man, Iranian in origin who has moved out with his family here to head the agency. He is extremely knowledgeable about the region, who is who, the shipping industry and general gossip. I thoroughly enjoy his company.

The bar is trendy, propped up with young and beautiful people, all white. The doormen are huge and black, the waitresses look Bavarian in skimpy dresses. All is perfect. There is a Mexican theme to the bar and the GM and I have an excellent supper.

After dinner, the bar runs its karaoke evening: a few Arabs try painfully to sing Brittany spears songs but they quickly give up in the face of mounting hostility from the crowd. It is then that I notice that there are two long tables, one is clearly occupied with American navy officers as they all wear baseball caps with their ship’s name on it. Discretion has always been their forte. They are surrounded by a flock of pretty Russians who laugh at their every joke, occasionally glimpsing at each other for reassurance that it is indeed a joke.

The other table is filled with British officers. The Americans, in a bid to impress their new girlfriends try a few songs but are unconvincing at best. The British, quite rightly, boo them out, then the Brits take the microphone and sing the Armarillo song. The response is immediate and electric, the dance floor is filled by the Brits (having by then borrowed the Russian girlfriends from the Yanks) and the entire bar joins in the fun. Only the Americans remain sulking. One thing leads to another, jokes are exchanged at the expanses of the Americans, they fail to appreciate the jokes and, predictably, set out to destroy all that they cannot understand. During this time I am happy as Larry and am only sorry that my Croatian crew is not here to take part in the sailors brawl. I return to my ship with my kind driver to have a few drinks with my crew and tell them all about my experiences in the city.